


Building Up From Paper Thin

by DefaltManifesto



Series: And We Run [4]
Category: inFAMOUS (Video Games), inFAMOUS: Second Son
Genre: (Body Dysphoria not related to Trans Character), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Body Dysphoria, Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Government Conspiracy, M/M, Making Out, Oppression, Overstimulation, Politics, Racism, Recovery, Semi-Public Sex, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 15:59:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10539786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: Delsin, Kuo, and Fetch finally accept the consequences for their actions. And then they have to deal with the aftermath.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Paper Thin by Data Romance (that whole band makes me think of Eugene honestly). This is an interlude piece. There will be a Fetch-centric fic, followed by a Delsin-centric fic, and finally ending on a Eugene-centric fic at the end. Because symmetry. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Comments are loved.

The crowd is bigger than any inauguration or protest ever according to the news. News choppers fly overhead and members of the riot police line the barricades blocking protestors from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Eugene stands along the barricade, invisible from view thanks to his powers. A podium is at the top of steps and the fourth speaker of the day, a woman named Erin, steps up to begin a rousing speech about solidarity between humans and Conduits, but Eugene isn’t focused on that. Instead, he focuses on the shields of invisibility he’s cloaked Delsin, Kuo, and Fetch with as they weave their way through the crowd towards the barricade to wait. The radio chatter in his ear, a hacked feed, lets him know the President is in position to take the podium next.

The only upside is that the invisibility is easy to maintain when every protestor has a data link for him to tap into for strength. Nerves make his heart beat fast. He knows they can do this. He knows that if it all goes to hell, he’ll be able to rescue them from jail and Kuo can shield them from bullets if he needs to. Rationality never applies when it comes to his fear though.

"Before we have President Johnson take the stage, we have one more speaker,” Erin says. “He wasn’t able to confirm his attendance until the last minute, but I’d like to welcome to the podium Delsin Rowe, Abigail Walker, and Lucy Kuo.”

The riot police look startled and lock their riot shields together, but the voice over Eugene’s ear piece is calm.

“Let them speak. You will stand down until I say otherwise!”

President Tamesha Johnson’s voice is stern, a dare for someone to disobey a direct order from the President. Eugene lets the shields around Delsin and the others drop once he’s sure there won’t be any nasty surprises and it serves as the signal that they’re safe to move. The crowd erupts into cheers when the police let them pass and head up the stairs.

It’s still weird to see Fetch without her hair. They’d seen each other last night briefly to solidify their plan before separating and hiding on their own around the city but it wasn’t enough to get used to it. Eugene moves along the barricade so he’s closer to the large monitors as Delsin takes his place at the podium with Fetch and Kuo at each side. The crowd doesn’t quieten easily. Eugene takes advantage of the delay, spreading himself through the cameras and into the cords that connect them to the giant monitors for his angels to appear through should the worst-case scenario happen.

“Alright kids now calm down, I’m not here to look pretty,” Delsin says. It takes another minute or so because he gets mostly silence. “So thank you, first of all, to President Johnson for letting us come up here and speak instead of shooting us on sight. We want to keep this protest peaceful. Secondly, thank you to everyone in attendance at every march and protest across the country because without you, we have no chance at getting the transparency Conduits and every citizen deserves when it comes to what the government can do to us.

“A lot of you know me by now even though I didn’t mean to catch anyone’s attention when I went into Seattle with my brother Reggie. All I wanted to do was save my tribe from the damage Brooke Augustine was able to do to them legally thanks to an abuse of government power. Luckily, I was able to do so, but I paid the price. My brother died saving me and Fetch from Augustine. Without that sacrifice, none of us would be here and Conduits would still be locked up without due process.” Delsin pauses, unable to hide the pain on his face. When he starts to speak again, his voice is full of anger that wasn’t there when he started.

“Now…some faction of the government wanted to go back to those times. You know that story by now too. President Johnson has acted swiftly in response to the information that I leaked, an improvement over the presidencies of the past when treasonous acts of the government were acceptable and the whistle blowers fled the country for their own safety. But we are still at a crossroads as a society and we would be wrong to stay out of the spotlight. We cannot ask for transparency from the government and expect to give nothing in return.”

Delsin stops and takes a step back, gesturing for Kuo to step forward. The crowd murmurs, and a few shouts of “monster!” ring out, but Kuo’s expression doesn’t falter as she grips the podium tightly in her hands. Eugene holds his breath, focusing on the ear piece but no orders come through.

“I could introduce myself but that feels unnecessary,” Kuo says. “Instead, I’ll give this country what I owe it. I am sorry for my actions, and for the blood on my hands. If you’ve listened to my dead drops from seven years ago, you know I did not make the choice I did to go along with Cole MacGrath lightly. The blood of the civilians he killed is on my hands, as is the blood of the Conduits who were abused and murdered from the fear his terror created among the rest of the country. But an apology is not enough, and I am not naïve enough to think it is.

“When I was on my way to face my sentence a little less than a month ago, I was not in control. I was not in control of my body and I would not have been allowed to get the truth out of what had really happened in New Marais. Now, the situation I was in was not an excuse for my choices. But it is not right for me to go to jail without my story being heard so that when you sentence me, my punishment is just and I can face it with a clear head and clear heart.

“And so…President Johnson. I, joined by Delsin Rowe and Abigail Walker, admit to my crimes against the state. We surrender ourselves to your will.”

Kuo steps back and in a move that could’ve been practiced but Eugene knew wasn’t, the three of them kneel in front of the podium.

“Cuffs on them, now!”

The voice in his ear piece does not belong to President Johnson. Eugene forces himself to stay still as his fingers clench into tight fists as three of the riot police ascend the staircase, grabbing his companions by their shoulders and throwing them face down on the steps and cuffing them even as the crowd starts to shout and push. He sees blood streaming down Delsin’s face from where his nose hit the stairs. Eugene clenches his hands tighter until his half-bitten nails dig into his palms.

The police haul them back upright, guns jammed into their backs as they walk them off to the side. A moment later, Tamesha ascends the staircase, flanked by security. Her hair is a long, elegantly braided mass of dreadlocks tucked up high on her head in a ponytail and she walks with a strength in her shoulders that doesn’t reveal any nervousness or fear about the situation. Any woman capable of forcing the FBI to allow her to be so near criminals is impressive in Eugene’s book.

“Quiet,” Tamesha says when she reaches the podium. “A riot at a time like this will do none of us any good. Now…I admire the conviction of those who have organized and marched and protested for a cause they believe in, one that _I_ too believe in because I know what it is like to have the government let your voices go unheard as they abuse you in the streets. I do not wish that history to be repeated yet again for the Conduits in this country. We have done them a grave disservice and I refuse to let us go down that path again.

“However…I find myself in a difficult position here. While Delsin has exposed corrupt elements of our government both in Seattle and within the military, the fact of the matter is he broke the law in doing so. Abigail Walker has helped clean up the streets of Seattle of crime rings, but that does not erase her history of murder. We do not depend on vigilante justice in this country. And Lucy Kuo.” Tamesha pauses and looks at Kuo. “I personally lost family in the explosion that destroyed New Marais. I have felt your crimes even more personally than those perpetrated by your companions.”

Kuo meets her gaze unflinchingly and for a moment, Eugene can’t help but believe that somehow, something has been communicated between them.

“So what am I to do?” Tamesha continues. “No one prepares you for moments like these when you run for president. These matters must be determined by the laws of our country and the Constitution that lies as its foundation. Delsin Rowe, Abigail Walker, and Lucy Kuo, you are under arrest for crimes committed against the United States.”

 

-.-

 

**8 Months Later**

"You look weird in a suit,” Fetch says as she finishes fixing Delsin’s tie.

“And you look weird in a dress,” Delsin says.

He smirks when Fetch punches his chest. They’ll arrive at the White House soon, at least according to their limo driver which…Delsin still has a hard time wrapping his brain around that bit. The day before, they and Kuo found themselves pardoned by President Johnson on the condition that Moya Jones and Senator Sessions were also pardoned. They were terms that he wouldn’t have agreed to, but the thing about being in prison is no one cares what he thinks. The move of course had been political. Forgiveness for Conduits. Forgiveness to those who wanted to exterminate them.

All in all, it seemed a bit skewed.

But Delsin was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth (except that’s what he did all the time). While Kuo could avoid the limelight, he and Fetch were not afforded the same luxury. They found themselves sucked into the honorary dinner to usher in a new era of cooperation, an event to make it look like Fetch and he were respectable, reformed, Conduits. The whole affair made him want to crawl under a rock and die. Fetch reads the sentiment on his face.

“Before long we’ll be done jumping through the President’s hoops and we can be on our way,” Fetch says.

“I know, I know, just…I hate being…”

Fetch leans back. “Me too. Plus I miss Lucy and I know you miss Eugene. I can make the boring party more fun though.” She waggles her eyebrows.

“We are not fucking in the White House,” Delsin says.

“Oh come on, don’t be a buzzkill,” Fetch says.

“You do realize if we commit any more crimes it’s a full life sentence right?” Delsin asks. “Those are the terms.”

Fetch leans across the seat, giving Delsin a good look at her cleavage thanks to the plunging neckline of the shimmering pink dress she’d been given for the event. “Where’s the crime in a good bit of fun?”

“Public indecency,” Delsin says, wondering when he got so serious.

“So we don’t get caught,” Fetch says.          

“Oh wow, why didn’t I think of that?” Delsin says with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh fine,” Fetch says. She’s smiling though.

The pink of her dress makes Delsin miss her pink hair. In the eight months they spent in jail, her hair had grown back out to its length near her shoulders, but it was her natural light brown. He wants the pink hair. Eight months in jail made him miss a lot of things. He doesn’t get to wallow in his feelings though, because they pull up into the staging area of the White House where the press corps wait.

“Do this and we get to go home,” Fetch says softly. “I wish I was as big of a criminal as Lucy. Then they wouldn’t want me here at all.”

It was true. Fetch and Delsin were asked, ordered more like, to stay and make nice at the party President Johnson was hosting, but Kuo’s presence had been regarded as too controversial, so she was already on a flight back home. The thought makes him think of Eugene. He swallows the sudden lump in his throat and steels himself as the driver opens the door to let them out.

Delsin steps out first, then extends a hand to Fetch like a proper gentleman. The flash of the camera flicker at the edge of his view, but the crowd remains eerily quiet and Delsin’s not sure if that’s how they always are or if it’s because of who he and Fetch are. Fetch wraps her arm under his, fingers resting on top of his arm as they head inside. An agent greets them just inside the door. Delsin forgets his face as soon as he turns around to lead them to the banquet hall.

The area is teeming with political bigwigs that Delsin vaguely recognizes. Most of them skirt to the side with thinly veiled disgust. Fetch’s fingers dig in right to his arm as they walk until finally they find themselves at a table near the small stage at the front of the hall. The table is empty but there are name cards at each seat so that won’t last long. Fetch does a quick walk around the table, examining the name cards before sitting at her designated spot next to Delsin.

“Who do we have the pleasure of dining with tonight?” Delsin asks.

“Moya, Sessions, the President, and her husband,” Fetch says.

“Jesus they’re selling this unity thing a little hard,” Delsin says with a wrinkle of his nose.

“I don’t know if can sit at this table,” Fetch says, voice carefully neutral. Her hands are curled into fists on the table, trembling with rage or something else.

“We can request to sit somewhere else,” Delsin says.

Fetch looks at him. “And risk snubbing Tamesha?”

“When have I ever cared about authority?” Delsin asks with a grin. It doesn’t last long. “Seriously. We’re here. Asking us to sit at the table of someone who tried to murder you isn’t required.”

Fetch shakes her head. “No. We can stay. But we’re not going to play nice.”

There’s a dark look in her eyes that might’ve worried him at one point, but he trusts her judgment now and after spending so long locked up, he isn’t about to sneeze at the chance for some good old, perfectly legal, revenge. He tugs his phone out, the first thing he picked up after he was released. It’s a burner of course. More than before, they can’t trust anything that could be traced and tracked. He punched in Eugene’s burner phone number and sent a quick message.

_Delsin: You here?_

The response came immediately.

_Eugene: What do you think?_

He smiles, comforted by the knowledge that Eugene’s lurking in the cameras and radios all around them. Once he and the others had surrendered, Eugene had fled back to Seattle to his home base of servers, the hub allowing him to retain a longer reach with his powers and a never-ending stream of energy. It also allowed him to watch their backs when they were in prison – a guardian angel.

“Well, this is an unsurprising move on the President’s part,” a new voice says.

Fetch goes ramrod straight as Moya takes her seat after the agent guiding her pulls it out for her. Delsin smiles. He never had a chance to meet her face to face. Her hair is chin length, delicate curls framing a strong chin and jaw. She’d look kind if it weren’t for the harsh look in her eye, disgust mixed with something else. He’s pretty sure he’d take Augustine on any day over her. She gives Delsin a short nod and then looks at Fetch.

“If it were up to me, we’d all still be in jail,” Fetch says before Moya can get a word in.

“We can agree on that then,” Moya says.

Before Delsin can cut in, an elderly man sits down at the table without giving them a glance. Delsin recognizes his face. He’s the old attorney general from Trump’s era who helped argue that Conduits were subhuman and so didn’t have the same rights as the rest of the country. Laws didn’t apply to threats to the country, at least not in his view or the courts’.

“This is where liberalism gets us Moya – breaking bread with savages,” he says.

“You must be Jeff,” Delsin says.

The man glowers at him and then turns back to Moya. “It’s humiliating!”

He continues on into a mumbled rant that Moya leans in to fake interest, but her eyes never leave Delsin, the unnerving and icy look making him want to let off a blast of smoke right in her face to make her cough. He’s had a lot of time to sit and stew with his anger. His phone buzzes again and he glances down at the text.

_Eugene: Relax. I’ll make sure at least one of them gets theirs._

“Mr. Sessions, Miss Jones,” Tamesha says as she glides over to the table. Her dreads are free to hang around her bare shoulders, the deep black of her hair and skin contrasting beautifully with the strapless white gown she wears. “My husband, Dr. Samuel Johnson.”

Her husband, an imposing man over six feet in a slim fitting suit, shakes Jeff’s hand and gives Moya a polite nod. There’s a careful look in his eyes, assessing where Tamesha’s expression is always immaculately schooled politeness. He looks across the table and meets Delsin’s eyes, the look replaced with something warmer when he does and it startles him enough that he’s sure his curiosity shows on his face.

“Mr. Rowe and Miss Walker,” Tamesha says.

Sam walks around the table to shake Delsin’s hand and then Fetch’s. “A pleasure. I’m glad you were able to join us.”

“Couldn’t have avoided it if I tried,” Delsin says, biting the inside of his cheek when Fetch’s heel digs into his calf. “This is probably the fanciest place I’ve ever been to.”

“It _is_ the White House,” Sam says as he sits down next to Delsin.

“I think it’s appalling you’d let delinquents and junkies in here in the first place,” Jeff says with a haughty look. “It’s a shame on our nation and a shame-“

“I could be wrong but I think treason might be worse than getting high,” Fetch says with a smile.

“Gentlemen, ladies, please,” Tamesha says. “Tonight is not a night to exchange bitter comments about the past. It’s time for new beginnings.”

Delsin bites his tongue. Everything in him demands he say something, stand up for himself and Fetch. He doesn’t though. He tries not to think about how that makes him feel sick to his stomach.

 

-.-

 

Eugene finishes piecing together the audio from Sessions’ conversation with Moya. The man was a fool, so blinded by his own hatred for the other that he didn’t realize he was still in hot water for helping orchestrate an attack against the citizens of the country he was supposed to represent. The conditions of everyone’s pardon were the same – no holding public office and no crimes, not even a traffic ticket. One crime and it was back in jail for life. Sessions had spent so much of his life being bathed in privilege, the threat of actual consequences for his actions still hadn’t sunk in.

“Next time it will work,” he says in a hushed voice to Moya. “Next time we’ll scare them so bad we won’t have to be at the tables of monsters ever again.”

Eugene attaches the audio clip to a sock puppet email and sends it to a source he’d spent the last eight months cultivating at one of the country’s most popular alternative news blogs that had risen after the arrest of Delsin, Fetch, and Kuo. “Conspiring against the country is still a federal crime, idiot.”

He lets his hand sink back into the screen in front of him, slipping into the cables and then into the satellites. Months of practice had made navigating the vastness of the web easier. His sanity depended on it. After never having a day to himself, nestled in the constant presence of either Delsin or Fetch, being unable to reach them and talk to them whenever he wanted was like being thrust out into an open field, naked and vulnerable to the elements. Letting his body hover in the cameras of the prison, all pixels and electrical pulses, had been his only respite. The downside was, he found being in his skin unpleasant these days.

Sometimes he’d wake with his hands and legs nothing but a shower of pixels. Others, he’d wake up inside his computer and it’d take all his mental strength to haul himself back out and into his physical form. Now, with Fetch and Delsin so close to coming home, it was almost painful to remain patient and watch them through the various cameras and cellphones in the White House.

He’s jolted out of the stream of data by his own phone going off. He curses under his breath as he struggles to get his hand to form the right shape so he can actually answer.

“Hello?”

“It’s me, Kuo,” Kuo says. She sounds tired. “I’m outside.”

Eugene nearly trips over himself as he climbs up the ladder and undoes the video lock he’d secured over the metal grate. Kuo jumps down and lets it shut behind her. He stares at her, unsure what to do. They’re friends, but she wasn’t an overly touchy person and yet all he wants is to hug her. She hugs herself, icy vapors wafting off her arms. There’s a strange look in her eyes, like she’s not sure what to do.

“I…” Eugene coughs, his throat sore. He can’t remember the last time he talked.

“You’re in a bit of a state,” Kuo says. “We should…” She gestures at the wall of monitors.

"Right.”

Kuo is thinner than she used to be but Eugene knows that’s because the guards pissed in her food most the time. He’d always managed to warn her when but still, it meant she’d gotten less food than she should, especially when she was back in captivity again and could’ve used all the strength she could get. She sits on the edge of his desk and watches the screen with the video feed that shows Fetch and Delsin.

"They sat them by Moya,” Kuo says, anger obvious in her voice.

“Don’t worry,” Eugene says. “Sessions made some pretty obvious conspiracy statements so he’ll be in jail by the end of next week.”

“Sessions is a crotchety old racist who thinks he has more power than he does,” Kuo says. “It’s Moya who I worry about.”

They watch the various feeds in silence after that.

 

-.-

 

Fetch clamps her hand tighter around her mouth, heel digging into Delsin’s back and tearing at the fabric of his suit a little as she tries to stay upright. She’s sensitive, and he’s already working on coaxing a third orgasm out of her. She’d be embarrassed, if it weren’t for the fact that she’d been too stubborn to masturbate in the eight months she’d been trapped in her cell and risk giving a guard the peep show they wanted. Delsin’s tongue flicks over her clit before he gives it a delicate suck.

Her hand smacks into the wall behind and she comes again, the angle of her back arching making the handle of the toilet dig into her spine. She collapses against the handle and wall as Delsin pops back out from beneath her dress, wiping at his lips and settling easily on the toilet as he watches her catch her breath. It hadn’t taken her long to convince him to just give in and have something of the horrendous night not suck. Given his pleased look, she’s glad she pushed.

"Let’s get the hell out of here,” she says.

“Hell yes,” Delsin says.

Fetch leaves the stall first and waves Delsin to follow her once she sees the coast is clear. They escape the bathroom before anyone notices them leaving the same one, but aren’t quick enough to evade Tamesha’s husband, Sam who calls their names as they head down the hall. Fetch doesn’t bother trying to smile as she turns to face him. Delsin is tense too but he manages to not glare. Fetch knows dopey smiles just come naturally to him.

“I was hoping to catch you before you left,” Sam says. “Anyone with eyes could tell you weren’t going to stick around long after the formalities.”

“Yeah, this kind of party was never my style,” Delsin says. “And my tribe has never been one that felt honored by the President’s presence.”

Sam nodded. There’s understanding in his eyes, and Fetch finds herself liking him a little. Racism was still around, even if many were willing to overlook skin color if it was to band together and hate Conduits. Tamesha understood that too, she just didn’t have the political freedom to do much, not that that had made Fetch hate her any less for putting her at a table with Moya.

“Still, we’re both truly grateful you decided to come,” Sam says. “While I disagree with your methods, we’re on the right track now as a country because of them. I believe that.”

“I wouldn’t be so optimistic,” Fetch says.

Sam smiles. “Being the realist is Tamesha’s job. That’s why she ran for president and I didn’t. Anyways…have a good night.”

Delsin nods and Fetch manages a smile before Sam walks away. Delsin loops his arm through hers as they continue down towards the grand entrance. The halls are empty except for agents posted here and there, likely to discourage anyone from going on a self-guided tour. They’ve almost reached the exit when a familiar voice calls Delsin’s name.

“You’re much too popular,” Fetch grumbles, her irritation bleeding into anger when she sees who’s chasing them down.

Fetch never had the displeasure of meeting Eugene’s mother. Given that Diane treated Eugene the way her own mother had, she isn’t surprised by the way her fingers curl into fists again. Delsin looks murderous. Diane stops in front of them, a little winded.

“My son. Where is he?” she demands.

“Son?” Delsin exchanges a mocking look of curiosity with Fetch. “I’m not sure I know who you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” she says, her pleasant expression twisting to something ugly. “He may have erased himself from government records but I know he’s still alive. Everyone else just says the DUP dumped his files and killed him but you and I both know better.”

“Hate to break it to you lady, but being a Conduit doesn’t come with a handy binder and welcome to the club gift bag,” Delsin says. “I’ve never met you and I don’t know that many Conduits.”

"You’re lying,” she says, voice growing in volume. “I want to speak with him. I want to speak with my son!”

“As far as I know, you’ve got no son,” Delsin says as he turns around, tugging Fetch along with him.

“She’s a piece of fucking work,” Fetch says once they’re out of earshot.

“Pigs will fly before she actually cares about Eugene,” Delsin says.

"Don’t say that. It won’t be long before we have animal Conduits,” Fetch says. “And then you’ll be eating your words.”

Delsin snorts. “Oh my god.”

 

-.-

 

Kuo watches Eugene finish clicking off the screens that gave them access to the cameras in the White House.

“You watched us a lot, huh?” Kuo asks.

Eugene nods, hands dissolving into pixels for a moment before solidifying again. “I had to. If I didn’t I was…” He shakes his head.

Kuo hops down from the desk. “Looks like maybe you spent a little too much time watching us. Why didn’t you go see Betty?”

"I did a few times,” Eugene says with a shrug. “But I was too worried to be helpful to her and she was always asking if I was alright and it was easier to just-”

“Be alone,” Kuo finishes. “Well I’m here now.”

“I’ve only got one bed,” Eugene says.

“Fetch taught me the wonders of cuddling,” Kuo says with a small smile. It’s the first Eugene’s seen on her and he finds that it’s quite nice.

“Isn’t the age difference between us weird for that?” Eugene asks.

“Ten years isn’t so bad, and don’t worry, I’m a lesbian,” Kuo says. “I have no interest in you like that, but you seem like you could use a reminder on how to stay in your body.”

Eugene flushes because it’s true. Holding his physical form takes more effort than not these days, especially when he sleeps. “I’m like a kid again, not in control of anything.”

Kuo shrugs. “I’m still like that with my own powers most of the time.” She leans back against the desk again, arms folding across her chest as she frowns. “I have an odd question though.”

“Okay?” Eugene isn’t sure where he likes where this is going. First an offer to cuddle, and now…?

“You know more about me than Fetch does,” Kuo says as she meets his eyes. “At least, you do if you remember everything from my file.”

“Yeah, most of it anyways,” Eugene says.

“So you know that I’m…”

Eugene stares back at her as she trails off, trying to think of what she could possibly want him to finish that sentence with. “That you’re what?”

"Trans,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh! Yeah I knew that,” Eugene says. “Why?”

“Did you tell Fetch or Delsin?” she asks.

“No why would I?” Eugene asks with a frown of his own.

Kuo raises her eyebrows and starts to laugh, though it doesn’t sound like an entirely happy one. It doesn’t sound bitter, like the last few times her heard her laugh while recovering or trapped in her jail cell, but it does have a slight hysterical edge to it that worries him a little. He gets to his feet, reaching out before just letting his arms dangle at his sides instead, helpless.

“I forgot,” she says once she regains her composure. “With Conduits around, no one gives a shit anymore if you’re queer or trans.”

“So…I take it you haven’t told Fetch then?” Eugene asks.

“No, it hasn’t seemed overly important with everything else going on,” Kuo says. “I will though.”

Eugene nods. “She’s a good person. And so are you. I’m glad you two found each other.”

“I’ll say this,” Kuo says. “I have done a lot in my life, but a polyamorous relationship is not one of those things. How do the three of you manage?”

Eugene shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean with me, I’ve never known any different. I knew how it was supposed to be in movies, but being the giant nerd that I was, I already knew that wasn’t going to happen.” It feels nice to talk again, especially about Fetch and Delsin. The words keep rolling out of him before he can stop them. “And then Curdun Cay happened and when I got out I only had Delsin and Fetch and I was into both of them and they were into me and each other so…I don’t know, it just sort of happened. I wasn’t really worried about the whole having a typical romance thing. It’s not typical but it’s…us. That’s all that matters.”

“And how do I fit into it?” Kuo asks.

She seems to be asking herself more than him, but Eugene answers anyways. “However you want. It’s not like it’s a competition and Fetch isn’t a prize.”

"I have no interest in you or Delsin though,” she says.

“Well no but you like us well enough, right?”

She frowns. “Yes, of course.”

“So why not just friends. Just because the rest of us are all mixed up together doesn’t mean you have to be too,” Eugene says. “And it doesn’t mean you’re the odd person out either.”

“Perhaps I should have been born ten years later. Then maybe this would make sense,” Kuo says. “Or at least come a little easier.”

“Don’t think too hard about it. Just do whatever feels right. That’s what we did,” Eugene says. He ducks his head. “I know it’s not easy but we rescued you knowing everything that you’d done, so whatever voice is telling you that you’re not allowed to just live and enjoy yourself? Ignore it.”

When he looks up, Kuo has a pensive look on her face. It’s better than sadness or confusion, or worse, nothing at all like before.

"No one ever let me want what I wanted before,” Kuo says, voice soft.

"Yeah, it takes some getting used to,” Eugene says.

Kuo seems to mull his words over a bit before turning towards his bed. “We should sleep. Fetch and Delsin will take the first flight out of there and I want to be somewhat presentable when they come.”

           

-.-

 

Delsin’s not sure what he expected when he and Fetch stumble through the alleyway entrance to Eugene’s hideaway. Eugene and Kuo curled up together on his bed was not it. Fetch smiles and nudges his side.

"So adorable,” she says.

“Adorable, but in my way,” Delsin says. He smokes his way to the bedside and lifts Eugene out of the tangle of limbs by the back of his hoodie before crushing him into a hug.

Eugene yelps, body dissolving into pixels here and there in a way Delsin’s never seen before, but then Eugene’s shaking arms are wrapping around his neck so he doesn’t bother to question it. Delsin can hear Kuo and Fetch talking. It’s the last thing on his mind though because Eugene is in his arms and he’s shaking and Delsin’s hands keep pushing into him as bits and pieces of Eugene’s body scatter into pixels and particles. He buries his face in Eugene’s neck and holds him tighter, like if he does he can hold him together. Eugene does likewise and Delsin laughs a little when Eugene sniffs at him.

“Shut up,” Eugene mumbles. “I missed the smell…”

“And the rest of me, right?”

Eugene’s fingers curl around the back of Delsin’s shirt in response. Delsin kisses the top of his head and without loosening his hold looks across to Fetch and Kuo. Fetch smiles, a little sad. He can tell she knows Eugene has no intent on letting him go any time soon.

“We’re going to see Betty,” Fetch says.

"Is she even awake?” Delsin asks.

“If you checked your phone, you’d see she texted you too,” Fetch says with a slight teasing tone. “I’ll tell her you’ll come around tomorrow.”

Delsin wants to see Betty too but given the way Eugene is acting, he figures it can wait. Kuo and Fetch make a stealthy exit and Delsin holds Eugene closer.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Eugene just shakes his head and Delsin doesn’t know what to make of that. He hesitates a moment, then bends his knees and works an arm under Eugene’s legs, sweeping him up and carrying him towards the bed to lay him down on top of it, or at least he tries to. Eugene still won’t let go. With gentle hands, Delsin pries his fingers loose and holds them between his hands as he straddles Eugene’s waist. He can’t see Eugene’s eyes through the shaded glasses. He reaches down and pulls the glasses off and sets them on the bedside table.

Eugene’s eyes are puffy and red, and shiny with tears that haven’t fallen. He sucks in a tight breath, body shimmering out of existence before solidifying again as he reaches his hands up to cup the back of Delsin’s neck and pull him down. Delsin goes and let’s Eugene push their lips together. Eugene’s breath comes quick, short puffs of air caressing Delsin’s lips whenever their mouths part for longer than a second. Delsin settles himself over Eugene’s body, the weight making Eugene sigh as Delsin cups his face and deepens the kiss.

Delsin’s a little worried though. He loves finally having Eugene in his arms again, but Eugene hasn’t said a word since he first hugged him. Carefully, he eases himself back, just enough to look him in the eye. Eugene tugs at him again but Delsin stays where he is.

“Talk to me babe,” Delsin says, thumbs rubbing along Eugene’s jaw and cheeks. “You’re freaking me out a bit.”

"Need you,” Eugene says, wiggling beneath him and pushing his hips up so Delsin knows what he means.

"You’ve got me,” Delsin says. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Eugene doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but Delsin doesn’t want to do anything else when Eugene seems so…fragile.

"How about we just lay. Just like this,” Delsin says, bracing his forearms on either side of Eugene’s head. “You can rub off on me if you want, but I’m just going to hold you okay?”

Eugene nods, biting his lip when he rolls his hips up again. His eyes don’t break away from Delsin’s for even a moment, even as his mouth drops open and he starts to gasp as he shoves his hips up and grind his hard cock against Delsin’s through their clothes. Delsin presses soft kisses to his parted lips, his nose, and keeps a firm grip on Eugene’s hair. Eugene’s hands slide up to grasp at Delsin’s shoulders. His fingers dig in as he comes, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Delsin kisses him then, soft and careful, over and over, until Eugene is limp and solid beneath him. They can’t linger long. Delsin’s not going to let them spend their first night together in months with Eugene in dirty clothing after all, but he’s in no real rush to move. He tucks his face in Eugene’s neck and kisses him there too.

“Sorry,” Eugene says. “I haven’t been…handling myself very well.”

“It’s okay,” Delsin says, fingers scratching over Eugene’s scalp. “Is that why your powers are a little out of control?”

Tension bleeds its way back into Eugene’s body. “I spent more time in the computer and cameras than I did in my own body…”

Delsin’s chest tightens and he closes his eyes against the sudden burn in them. He wishes he could rewind. He wishes he could stomp on his need to make the world a safer place for Conduits at the expense of himself and those he loved. Reggie would be proud of what he’d done, that he had helped push the country further to the left and at least for a while, shut the right up. But Delsin…

“I’m not going away again,” Delsin says into Eugene’s skin. “I don’t care what the military or whoever else tries to do. I’m staying with you.”

Eugene clings tighter.

 

-.-

 

Fetch wakes up to the smell of bacon and pancakes and sugar. Her brain is confused. She jolts upright, jostling Lucy’s arm loose from where it had laid across her bare stomach. She barely remembers last when they got to Betty’s, only recalling hugging the older woman close and crying a little before letting Betty guide them both to her guest room. After that, she and Lucy had kissed until they fell asleep. A huff of breath escapes her, relief from knowing she’s not still trapped in jail.

Lucy makes a soft noise of discontent and tugs at her. Fetch eases back down beside her, turning on her side so she can face Lucy. Her bright blue eyes blink open, followed by a smile Fetch still isn’t used to seeing but makes her heart bound anyways. She shifts forward and kisses the top of Lucy’s nose.

“I never thought I’d have this,” Lucy says, fingers reaching out to trail along Fetch’s jaw. “I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”

“Being in jail for eight months messes with reality a bit,” Fetch says. “Smells like Betty’s making breakfast.”

"Ah…good food. I missed that,” Lucy says, rolling onto her back. She stretches, the movement making her shirt expose her too thin stomach.

“I want to punch every single one of those guards who messed with your food,” Fetch says.

Lucy frowns when she looks at her. “It’s hardly the worst thing I’ve endured, even when I was just an agent.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Fetch shakes her head. “Come on, time to gorge ourselves.”

They head out to the kitchen and Betty smiles at them, eyes crinkling at the corners, when they enter as she finishes plating their food.

"You’re just like Delsin,” she says. “Once the food is made, you magically appear.”

Fetch gives a tired smile and ignores the food in favor of hugging Betty again. Betty is warm, her presence comforting without even trying and it brings tears to her eyes all over again because she missed this; the feeling of home and safety. Betty gives her a tight squeeze and pushes her towards the food.

Lucy and Fetch grab their own plates, and then Lucy picks up Betty’s as well and carries them to the dining room table. They eat in silence. Mostly it’s because it’s the first decent food they’ve had in months, but also because their minds are still fuzzy with sleep. Betty spends a lot of time looking at her. Fetch has a feeling she has more questions, so when she finishes filling her stomach, she looks at her expectantly.

“Are you alright?” Betty asks, arms folding across her chest. “Truly?”

“I think so,” Fetch says, glancing over at Lucy. “We worked through some things before DC and I think that’s what made jail…easy. I knew it was temporary and that something better was waiting for me.”

“Good…good. Eugene didn’t handle this very well,” Betty says.

“You didn’t seem all that shocked when we said Delsin was staying with him,” Kuo says. “He didn’t seem okay when I saw him either.”

“Just keep a careful eye on him,” Betty says. “I brought him food sometimes, but really, I think he thrives when he’s around people all the time.”

Fetch raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Between you and Delsin, I don’t think he was ever alone before DC once he got to Seattle,” Betty says. “But enough about that. How are you two fairing?”

The change in topic takes Fetch by surprise, but then Betty’s always been one to tell her not to put men’s problems before her own. She shrugs.

“I don’t think it’s hit me yet,” Fetch says. “Or maybe I’ve just done so much time it doesn’t really affect me anymore, I’m not really sure.”

Lucy nods her agreement. “I don’t think you need to worry about us.”

Betty scoffs. “Well that’s just silly. If I didn’t worry about you four, all you’d end up doing is getting in trouble. Then again, even with me worrying Delsin always found trouble.”

"I think Delsin’s head is on a little straighter,” Fetch says. “I think maybe it is for all of us…”

“What do you mean?” Betty asks.

“Just…we want to settle down a bit,” Fetch says. “I don’t think we did before this because there was just too many questions and too much fear about what could be coming but now it feels like we did everything we could.”

Betty smiles. “That’s because you did. The world shouldn’t ask for anymore from you.” She looks at Lucy. “And you too.”

A flush appears on Lucy’s pale cheeks and Fetch reaches over under the table to squeeze her knee. She knows what it’s like to have Betty’s approval when no one else has ever given it. Lucy takes a steadying breath and then meets Betty’s eyes.

"Thank you. I…appreciate it.”

“I say nothing I don’t mean. Now. I have to get to work soon, but tonight me and some of the ladies are having our quilting circle if you’d like to join us,” Betty says as she gets up and starts gathering their plates. “It’ll be some good women bonding time.”

“I’m not sure quilting’s really my thing,” Fetch says uneasily.

“Tough,” Betty says as she heads for the kitchen sink. “I’m working on a quilt for Delsin and I need your input.”

Fetch is pretty sure that’s a lie but she agrees to it anyways. Lucy hides a smile behind her hand.

 

-.-

 

Eugene wakes up in his computer, floating in cyberspace in a cocoon of data as he’s buffeted by viruses and trojans that will get scooped up in his virus protector. He groans internally and then tries to remember his body. He streams out of his monitor in bursts of pixels until he’s standing whole in front of his computers again. Delsin sits at the end of his bed with a guilty look on his face.

“We shouldn’t have done this,” Delsin says. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

Anger rises fast in Eugene’s chest, unexpected.

“I’m not some fragile victim you need to protect, Delsin,” he says, voice cold.

“What?” Delsin looks taken aback.

“I didn’t cope well. That’s not your fault. If you spend the rest of your life babying me I’ll never get any better,” Eugene says. “Stop blaming yourself for my own fucking issues.”          

Delsin sighs and wipes a hand down his face. “Fuck, Eugene do we have to do this?”

Eugene sits down in his computer chair. “Yeah, I think we do.”

"I don’t know what you want from me then,” Delsin says. “I’m sorry that we left your behind and I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me.”

“I don’t want an apology,” Eugene says, frustration clear in his voice. “I want you to treat me like a human being, and I want you to be here for me without being fucking guilty about it. Not everything in the world is your fault.”

And really, that’s the issue. Eugene missed Delsin every fucking night. He’d struggled with wanting to die, with the nightmares, with all the things he normally could rely on Fetch and Delsin for, all on his own and it sucked. But he was still here. He didn’t give up. He stayed alive when it was the hardest thing he’d ever done and Delsin was acting like it wasn’t enough, like it was his fault Eugene was damaged when Eugene didn’t feel that way at all. He isn’t coping well, but he’s not an invalid either.

“I’m-“ Delsin starts.

“If you say sorry I’m going to punch you,” Eugene says. “I’m fucked up, D, because I missed you. So just…be okay with me, don’t try and fix me.”

“Okay,” Delsin says, getting to his feet. “I guess I didn’t realize I was treating you that way.”

Eugene steps closer and then rests his head against Delsin’s chest. “I know it’s because you care. You make me feel like a child sometimes though.”

Delsin kisses the top of his head. “I’m sorry about that, I’ll be better. I think it’d help if you actually told me what it was like though. I promise not to get all mopey and guilty.”

“Fine, we’ll talk,” Eugene says even though talking about how he felt while they were gone was really the last thing he wanted to do. “But you’re cuddling me the whole time alright? I missed you.”

Delsin laughs and tugs Eugene down onto the bed. Eugene sprawls on top of him, taking his glasses off and setting them on the floor so he can shove his face into Delsin’s neck without smudging the lenses. Delsin’s hands sneak up the back of his hoodie to trail up and down his spine. Eugene squirms, feeling like he did almost a year ago when Delsin had made him come the first time – skin oversensitive and breaking out in goosebumps at the lightest touch.

“I can’t think when you do that,” Eugene says.

“You’re a hair trigger all over again,” Delsin says.

“That can be reward then,” Eugene says, shoving his fingers up along Delsin’s sides and under his t-shirt.

Delsin moves his hands up to rest up on Eugene’s back outside his shirt, giving him time to think about what he wants to say. Eugene can’t help but worry that despite his promise, Delsin will feel guilty. He makes a frustrated noise. Keeping his thoughts to himself isn’t going to help either of them.

“I just don’t handle being in my own body so great,” Eugene says. “Everyone else…they missed the privacy they used to have you know, but I never did really, or maybe I was young enough that it was easy to make me forget that privacy is nice. So not having you around just…it wasn’t just that I missed you, it was like I was exposed.”

Delsin hums under his breath. “But you weren’t. There was no one to see you.”

"That’s the problem,” Eugene says. He closes his eyes. “There’s no point in staying here if no one could see me and make me feel safe. It was easier to just exist as data in a machine I guess.”

Delsin is quiet. Eugene almost pushes himself to look at him as to guess what he’s thinking but he holds still. Better to let Delsin trying to process what he said first.

“I think I get why you’re frustrated with me,” Delsin says. “Because I’m seeing what you went through and what you did as an illogical response because it’s not what I would do. But for you it makes perfect sense.”

Eugene lets out the tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in his body with a sigh. “Exactly. Yes.”

Delsin secures his arms around Eugene’s waist and rolls them, pinning Eugene to the bed and pressing their foreheads together. His gaze is almost distressed, full of love to the point that Eugene thinks he’s scared himself.

“I love you,” Delsin whispers. “And I don’t pity you and I don’t think you’re weak or wrong for coping in the way that makes the most amount of sense. Okay?”

“Okay,” Eugene says. “And…I get why you get all protective. Just trust me to know when I need help.”

Delsin smiles. “Deal.”

Eugene tangles his fingers in Delsin’s hair, brushing their lips together in a light tease. Now that the hard stuff was dealt with, his body was interested in something else, specifically how nice it felt to have Delsin’s body pressed against his. “You could give me some nice incentive to stay in my body right now you know…”

Delsin gives a soft groan. “You’re going to kill me, I swear.”

Eugene doesn’t get a chance to respond because then Delsin’s lips are on his. He arches up into Delsin’s touch, dick already hard. Spending so much time in his computer had made him sensitive again. Delsin yanks them both up enough that he can help tug Eugene’s shirt off and get his hands on bare skin, the sensation making Eugene’s nerves sing.

"Fuck you’re hot, you know that?” Delsin murmurs against his lips. “Just a touch is all you need.”

At one point, that would have been embarrassing. But now, Eugene doesn’t mind, in fact he likes being sensitive and easy for Delsin, likes the ownership over one another that it gives. He lets Delsin shove him back on the bed once he gets Delsin’s shirt off. Delsin has more muscle now, his abs toned and defined thanks to all the working out he did in jail, and Eugene takes his fill of it with his fingers as Delsin works on kissing him breathless.

“You should fuck me,” Eugene gasps out as Delsin’s mouth moves to his neck to suck a mark into his skin.

Delsin sits back on Eugene’s lap, grinding down on Eugene’s hardened dick. “Yeah?”

Eugene’s hands clamp down in his hips, holding him still some can think for two seconds. “I had to go eight months without touching you. I want you.”

"I reiterate – you’re so fucking hot,” Delsin says before leaning down and covering Eugene’s lips again with his own.

They make quick work of their remaining clothes and Delsin stretches over him to reach for the lube in the bedside nightstand. Eugene takes advantage of the opportunity by biting at the center of Delsin’s chest and twisting his nipples. The shock of pain makes Delsin go still, body shivering. For a second, Eugene worries something’s changed, that Delsin doesn’t like this sort of thing anymore and that he’s gravely miss-stepped.

Delsin drops the lube on the bed and bows his head, eyes closed. Eugene watches as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Again…” Delsin says, voice soft.

Eugene wiggles up a little so they’re closer to eye level, knowing he needs to keep an eye on him to know if it’s too much. He twists his fingers again and this time he doesn’t stop at Delsin’s groan. Instead, he grinds his hips up too. He can’t help his own gasp then, the feel of Delsin’s cock sliding against his sending fizzling pleasure through his body. He releases his hold on Delsin’s nipples, breath whooshing out of him when Delsin collapses against him.

Something has shifted. Moments ago, Eugene wanted nothing more than to burn away the loneliness by getting Delsin to fuck him and now…now he wants the same feeling but he wants to be the one on top. He wants to make Delsin cry. The realization hits him in the gut and he nearly shoves Delsin away. Instead, he drops his hands to his sides.

"Fuck…”

Delsin nuzzles his neck, hips shifting restlessly. “What…”

“I get the strangest urges about you sometimes,” Eugene says quietly.

“Yeah? Like what?” Delsin asks, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Like wanting to make you cry.” Eugene’s voice is a whisper and he wants to take the words back as soon as he says them. He loves Delsin, and he’s spent enough of his life torturing people. The thought that he could get off on hurting someone intentionally just proves how Curdun Cay twisted everything within him, sharpened his edges and darkened his thoughts.

“Oh,” Delsin says, and it almost sounds like relief in his voice. “I thought you were going to say something bad.”

Eugene stares up at him. “How is that not bad?”

Delsin smiles. “I like when you hurt me. It feels good, nice endorphin rush, I don’t know.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” Eugene says. “Not right now…”

"That’s okay,” Delsin says. He kisses Eugene, deep and thorough before pulling back. “I’ll take care of you this time.”

 

-.-

 

Fetch brushes her lips back and forth over Lucy’s knuckles. They’re curled up on the couch in Betty’s living room, Fetch declined into Lucy’s side with their hands laced together while they each read their own books with their other hands. The intimacy settles the energy in Fetch’s body. All she wants to do is stay cuddled close and spend the day lazing about. The frantic edge that had always been in the back of her mind was gone, because now, she’s a legal citizen with no worry about being picked up again.

Lucy tugs her hand free long enough to shut her book before lacing it with Fetch’s once more. Fetch cranes her head back. She only sees Lucy’s chin so she nips at it. Lucy retaliates with a quick jab of her fingers to Fetch’s side and Fetch gives in, setting her own book down and sitting up. Her teasing remark dies on her lips when she sees Lucy’s serious expression.

"Is something wrong?” she asks, neatly turning and tucking her legs beneath her.

“Just…there’s something I haven’t been very forthright about,” Lucy says, eyes staring down at her lap.

“Oh?” She doesn’t bother hiding her apprehension. She knows Lucy won’t be hurt or bothered by it – not when secrets usually spelled disaster for both of them.

"I’m…transgender. As in I was designated male at birth,” Lucy says, raising her gaze up to meet Fetch’s.

"Oh!” Her relief makes Fetch grin. “I thought you were about to say you really work for Augustine or something.”

Lucy shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s so strange to me, knowing the world no longer cares about things like this.”

“I’m sure some people do but they’d hate us for being Conduits first. I still love you. What some doctor said you were when you were born doesn’t change who you are, not to me,” Fetch says. She reaches out and tugs Lucy into her arms. She’s not bothered by the news at all, but she sees the tremor in Lucy’s hands and figures it can’t hurt to reassure her she’s not going anywhere. “Your voice is really feminine by the way. I’m impressed.”

Lucy snorts as she wraps her arms around Fetch’s side and buries her face against her neck. “You can thank Dr. Wolfe for that.” Her lips feel cold against Fetch’s neck, an obvious testament to how scared she’d been of rejection.

“What’d he do?”

“By the time we became close, I’d already done top surgery but my voice usually still gave me away. He managed to invent a device of some sort that he put on my vocal chords,” Lucy says.

Fetch doesn’t know much about the man who Lucy nearly died protecting, but her view of him warms knowing he’d taken the time to do something so important. “He must’ve been a good person.”

“He was at his core. He was just trying to make the world a better place and when he hurt people in the process, he tried to fix that too,” Lucy says.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t like you after you told me?” Fetch asks, pushing Lucy back again so they can look at each other.

“Yes,” Lucy says. “It was a big deal in my life, before the Conduit thing.”

Fetch frowns. “I didn’t mean to diminish it-“

“No, I know,” Lucy says.

She leans forward, pressing her lips to Fetch’s. They’re warmer now and Fetch gets a little carried away, cupping the back of Lucy’s head and deepening it. It’s not until Lucy’s hand is sliding up her thigh that she pulls away. She still has questions after all.

“Kissing you is such a distraction,” Fetch says.

Lucy’s laugh makes her stomach flip. “Thanks I think.”

“One more serious question and then we can make out all you want,” Fetch says with an eyebrow waggle.

“Deal,” Lucy says.

“Eugene…he knew everything in your file. Did you know that? Did he use it against you?” Fetch asks. The question fills her with unease. She’d long ago forgiven Eugene for what he’d unwillingly done to her but seeing how Lucy struggled to tell her the truth, she’s not sure how she feels about knowing he did the same to Lucy with something so important.

“Yes, but neither he nor whoever was instructing him was able to come up with something I hadn’t already heard and come to terms with years before,” Lucy says.

“I have the strangest urge to say I’m sorry but I know how annoying it is to hear that,” Fetch says.

“So kiss me instead.”

Fetch does.

 

-.-

 

Eugene’s skin makes Delsin’s lips buzz as he presses kisses along his collarbone. When he bites at his pale skin and soothes it with his tongue after, the taste of ozone and static scatters over his tongue, foreign and strange. Curious, he pulls back and sees Eugene’s skin rippling in and out of existence. His eyes trail up to Eugene’s face. Eugene’s eyes are shut right but they flicker open when he realizes Delsin’s stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“You taste like…” Delsin shrugs, trying to find the right words. “Like static. And you keep fading in and out.”

Eugene doesn’t seem bothered, instead letting his head drop back on the pillow. “So give me a reason to stay.”

Delsin’s heart aches at the words. He knows the last thing Eugene wants is pity, but he can’t help the sadness that bubbles up within him when he sees how physically and emotionally distant Eugene is. Knowing Eugene wants it doesn’t help. He leans down and presses a chaste kiss to Eugene’s lips before making his way down. As he works, Eugene arches into his touch even as his skin evaporates in a shower of static at every kiss and caress. The melancholy fades as he circles his tongue around the tip of Eugene’s cock and he cries out.

He’s going to give Eugene pleasure if it’s the last thing he fucking does. He hates the world for taking them away from each other, he hates the DUP for making Eugene subconsciously shy away from any gentle touch, and he hates the parents who raised Eugene and robbed him of love that was safe and good and whole. Eugene’s hands twist in his hair as Delsin’s teeth graze the underside of his cock. Delsin moves back up and sucks him down to the back of his throat.

The noise Eugene makes in response makes the tight heat in Delsin’s gut surge to the forefront of his mind again. He shoves his hips against the mattress for some bit of relief. His hands come up to cup Eugene’s hips, urging him to take what he wants because he’ll happily be the dominant one but he’s not going to let Eugene be passive. The encouragement is all passive. The encouragement is all Eugene needs to tighten his hold on Delsin’s hair and start rolling his hips up. It’s not face-fucking. Eugene’s being too gentle and doesn’t even push enough to make Delsin gag. It’s enough to convince Delsin he’s aware though.

He grabs the lube and slicks up his fingers, letting Eugene continue to take his pleasure from the warm wet heat of his mouth as he starts to massage at Eugene’s entrance with the tips of his fingers. Eugene gasps, leg curling around Delsin’s shoulder with his heel digging into his back. They’ve done this before, but it’s like every sensation is new all over again and the thought makes Delsin want to work even harder. When he slides the first finger in, the skin on his back tingles. He pulls off Eugene’s cock long enough to look over his shoulder, grinning as Eugene’s leg shimmers into pixels and back again.

He turns back to graze his teeth over the tip of Eugene’s dick. His fingers twist tighter in Delsin’s hair and his hips twitch like he wants more but he’s so tight Delsin knows better than to risk it. Instead, he stays patient. He waits until Eugene’s hole stops gripping so tight before easing the second in and dropping his mouth to suck lightly at his balls. The next noise that leaves Eugene sounds pained. Delsin shrugs his leg off his shoulder and sits back on his heels, gaze roaming over Eugene’s face.

Where he usually sees a flush on Eugene’s cheeks, he instead sees clusters of pixelated energy. He leans down without thinking, pressing his lips to the shimmering spot, gasping as his lips tingle and the taste of ozone blooms over his tongue again. Eugene whimpers, grabbing at the back of Delsin’s neck as he rolls his hips. Delsin stretches his fingers, slow and deliberate the way Eugene likes to reward his eagerness and avoid drawing it out too much to the point that he makes him crumble.

Delsin presses his lips to Eugene’s, swallowing his moans and gasps as he works a third finger in. He stops stretching then, just rubbing his fingers up against Eugene’s prostate instead and riding out Eugene’s swiveling hips as he uses Delsin’s fingers to seek his own stimulation the way he wants. He draws away from the kiss, pressing one to Eugene’s jaw instead as he struggles for words.

“So good, fuck you’re so good,” he murmurs.

Eugene’s breath hitches and when Delsin looks at him, tears are sliding down his face to bury and disappear in his hair. He eases his fingers out, shushing him when he lets out a soft noise or protest. Delsin sits back on his heels and wipes away Eugene’s tears with his clean hand before reaching for the lube again and slicking up his cock.

"You good?” Delsin asks.

Eugene’s eyes blink open. He looks debauched – overwhelmed and dazed with pleasure. His lips are swollen from Delsin’s kisses and his own biting at them to try and keep his noises down. It takes a moment but then Eugene’s eyes focus once more.

“Sorry, just overwhelmed,” he says. “I want…please…”

He squirms, hips shoving against Delsin’s. Delsin shushes him, feeling like they’re back to the night before when Eugene was so desperate to feel real again all he could do was move against him. He wipes his hand off on the sheets and then slides a hand under one of Eugene’s legs, opening him up so he can line himself up. Eugene’s eyes slide close as Delsin pushes his cock in, back arching and form shimmering as he gasps. Delsin struggles to think past the way Eugene clenches down around him. All he wants to do is rut into him and chase his own pleasure but he doesn’t dare, instead letting his hands tighten where they grip Eugene’s hip and leg as he clamps down on his urges.

Eugene reaches up to wrap his arms around Delsin’s neck. Delsin’s scalp tingles, the feeling spreading down his spine and making him shiver. He can hear the full hum of pixels and data near his ears. After a moment, Eugene tugs, drawing Delsin down so he’s stretched out on top of him, a warm and heavy weight that’s in him and surrounds him. Delsin presses a helpless kiss to Eugene’s neck, the skin melting away beneath his lips before solidifying once more. It doesn’t scare him though. He refuses to be scared about hurting Eugene when he clings so tightly and arches into every touch.

“C’mon,” Eugene says, rocking his hips up.

Delsin groans and bites at the place he’d been kissing a moment before. “You sure? Don’t wanna move too soon.”

Eugene’s fingers twist into his hair and yank his head up to press their lips together in a hungry kiss. It’s searing, and for a moment Delsin can tell Eugene’s let himself go. The passion in the kiss, the way his tongue fucks into Delsin’s mouth and takes control, the way his teeth sink into his lower lip and then sooth it with a light suck, it all makes Delsin shudder and shake and thrust into him without a thought, short and fast. Eugene gasps and his leg falls out of Delsin’s grip to brace against the bed.

They find a rhythm then, and it helps dissolve the remaining anxiety he’d been feeling. Eugene’s more than present in his body now, meeting Delsin’s thrusts and crying out against his mouth as his body sparks and shimmers. The feel of pixels on his skin makes Delsin breathless. It’s somehow not just a meeting of themselves, but a meeting of their cores, their powers intermingling and toying with one another. He can feel the data within him, buried under the smoke and neon, swirling and calling out to Eugene’s.

The power floods into him all at once, draining from Eugene’s lips and into his before going back again. The noise that leaves him is embarrassing, more like a whimper than anything else, but Eugene makes the same sound so he doesn’t feel so bad, instead letting the feelings swallow him whole. The pleasure from the way Eugene squeezes down around his cock is secondary. Every nerve feels like it’s singing, vibrating and clashing together, with Eugene. He wonders, in the moments he can grasp thoughts, if this is how Eugene’s been feeling this whole time.

"Fuck, fuck,” he chants, burying his face in Eugene’s neck as his orgasm crashes over him.

Eugene’s legs hitch around his hips, wrapping tight around him to get the leverage he needs to grind up against Delsin’s stomach. The friction is all he needs to spill himself between their bodies. Slowly, the crackling energy, the transfer of powers back and forth, recedes and Delsin props himself up enough to press his lips to Eugene’s in a sloppy kiss. Eugene sighs, fingers petting through his hair and scratching lightly at the base of his head and when Delsin finally pulls away to look down at him, Eugene’s flushed and sweaty, not a hint of pixelated skin to be found.

"You okay?” Delsin grins at how breathless his own voice is.

“That was intense as fuck,” Eugene says, grinning wide in response before breaking out into laughter.

It’s contagious and Delsin rolls off of him, flopping down on the bed as he starts to laugh too. It feels like a release, and he’s not surprised to feel wet tears on his face and chest when Eugene rolls over to bury his face against Delsin’s middle. They’re happy tears though. Relief that they’re still okay, that they’re still here and in love and…

“I fucking love you so much,” Delsin murmurs against Eugene’s sweaty mop of hair.

Eugene’s fingers curl tight around his hip in response. “I love you too. And I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

Delsin’s okay with that.


End file.
